


farsighted

by heylaurita



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED, maybe a lot of crying, there's some crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29252526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylaurita/pseuds/heylaurita
Summary: "Yuri, my dear... Sometimes you can't see what's right under your nose."Yuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov are just about to get married. However, Yuri is still not completely sure if he's ready to get married. His insecurities are taking a toll on him, making him oblivious to Victor's love and preventing him from living his best life with Victor.Victor knows how to change it all, although it will hurt both of them. But it pains him more to see Yuri suffering with things Victor can not kick away on his own.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I'm new at this fandom and I'm not really that good at English, so if I'm making some mistake or anything you wanna talk to me, don't be shy and leave a comment, I highly appreciate it! Hope you enjoy the story, I've been thinking about giving a more serious and mature tone to their relationship, and i hope you guys like it as much as i do <3

I roll my shoulders back and exhale the air trapped in my lungs, and look up as I pull my hair back. A gentle touch on my shoulder brings me back to reality, pushing away any negative thoughts that might be around my mind. The hand that touches me tightens the fingers around my shoulder, becoming firm yet delicate. Victor perfectly manages to be both at the same time. I put my right hand over his, and turn around to meet his beautiful blue eyes a few inches above mine.

Victor Nikiforov chose to spend the past season of the ice skating Grand Prix as my coach. After the dust settled, we decided to talk about our future as a team (as a couple, we knew exactly where we were going). When we reached a conclusion, where he would return as a competitor at the PyeongChang Winter Olympics in 2018, his country was barred from participating. So we decided that he would be my coach again, for another year.  
  
He let me do all the programs he had done for himself. He didn't think, even for a second, to ask for authorization to participate, neutrally, in the Olympic Games. "If you get on the podium with me as your coach, that's enough for me," he said, with a slight smile. I believed him.

And here I am again, about to hear my name announced. Trembling as if there was a violent earthquake below my feet, with a stomachache and almost lacking air. It's my first Olympics, I made it to the final, and all the training I've had for months, all the experience of years, seems to have disappeared at this very moment. However, I am holding the hand of my love, who is in front of me and pulls me into a hug that feels like home. It inspires confidence. Victor believes in me.  
  
"Get us that gold medal, _katsudon_ ," he whispers. I smile and bury my face in his embrace. “You are a favorite. You have done very well so far. But I know you can surprise me even more, can't you?"  
  
I move away from Victor to look at him once more before going to the ice rink. When he smiles, I blush. This apparently will never stop happening. I will never stop being extremely in love with my fiance, even though I sometimes think I don't deserve it.  
  
"See for yourself, Vic," I reply, again brushing my hair back with one hand. He winks at me in response, and we hear my name being announced. It's time.  
  
Victor takes my hand once more and kisses it. I squeeze his right hand and smile. After that, as I slide over the ice and take my position, I am extremely calm. I look at Victor, and he says something from a distance, making it impossible for me to hear. I'm not good at lip reading, but I know he says "I love you".  
  
I smile at him. I know that I am able to achieve anything now.  
  
***  
  
I admire the golden circle on my left hand, still not believing the last few minutes of my life. If I could replay infinitely, as I do with the best parts of my favorite anime, I would. But I don't have to. I remember exactly what happened in the last few minutes. I was the last one to perform, I landed all of my jumps, I made an impeccable performance, I got the highest score, I got to the first place, I took a gold medal to my country, I went up in the center of the podium, Victor kissed me in front of the cameras. And now I'm sitting among some passing people, athletes and coaches who eventually congratulate me, and Victor is a few steps away from me, talking to someone. I rotate the medal from side to side, strangely fascinated by the reflection of the lights on it. Are all the gold medals that brilliant?

  
“Yuri!”, I hear Victor calling me. I look up from one treasure to another, and receive my fiance's gaze with a smile. He's alone now. “There will be a celebration banquet later. Do you want to go?"  
  
"Sure," I reply. "I think Christopher will be there."  
  
“Too bad he didn't make it to the final,” Victor replies. “But I'm sure he saw you today. Everyone saw you. It was amazing."  
  
I smile and take a step that makes me stand very close to Victor, face to face with him. But I need to look up to reach his eyes, which puts my neck in sacrifice.  
  
I feel his hand wrap around my waist and my cheeks flush. As always, I wrap my arms around his body, letting my whole body touch him. One of his hands starts to stroke my hair, and I close my eyes.  
  
"I'm so proud of you, Yuri," says Victor, in a sweet voice. When he speaks that close to me, in that tone of voice that he keeps just for me, the sounds of the world around him disappear. It's just me, him, his voice sweet and heavy as honey, the beat of his heart and the gentle ups and downs of his chest as he breathes. The arm that wraps around my body so easily. The hand that caresses my hair. His smell that, sometimes, I feel even without him being around. This is home.  
  
When he places a kiss on my forehead, I feel like kissing him. But, most of the times, I just hope that he kisses me. I'm too ashamed to take such initiatives in public. I'm glad Victor has the attitude I would like to have, so that completes us.  
  
"I couldn't have done it without you," I say, feeling a little emotion flood my voice. I don't care about it, though. “You know this victory is yours, Victor. I will never try to take that from you.”  
  
"Hey," he says, without moving away from me to look me dead in the eyes, as he usually does while in coach mood. His voice is still sweet. “If you hadn't been dedicated, you wouldn't be here. Everyone knows that it is obvious that you won first place because you had the dedication and talent that others did not. And you just can't see it, Yuri. Why?"  
  
"I don't-"  
  
"Just admit that you are good, my love," Victor interrupts me. “You are the best in male figure skating this year. The medal right there on your neck proves it. I was your coach for a few years, and I'm a good coach, that gold medal also proves it. Can we believe that, at least for today?"  
  
By the tone of Victor's voice, I interpret that he is also self-asserting a little. He has gained some experience as a coach in the past 2 years, but he is still not the best in the world. He helps me to believe that I am a great athlete, and I need to make him believe that he is good as a coach.  
  
But not that good. I need him to be a competitor again. I need to see Victor Nikiforov on the ice again, leaving me gaping, open-mouthed and delighted, as he always did, since I met him. Victor and I as a team are amazing and work well. But I know that, when it becomes to ice skating, I don't even get to his feet.  
  
"Maybe I'm the best Olympic skater this year," I reply. A slight smile forms on my face and is reflected in my voice. “But you are a five-time champion. And when you compete again, it will be freaking six. How can I be beat that?"  
  
***  
  
I take the path that leads to our hotel room with a very drunk Victor leaning on my shoulders. He likes to be half naked when he's drunk, so I had to put his shirt on so we could go back. Now I realize that it is inside out. Anyway, I will take it off again in a few minutes.  
  
"Yuuri, where are you taking me?" He asks, very confused. "This is not my apartment."  
  
"To our room," I reply. "We have a flight early tomorrow and you need to sleep."  
  
"Flight?", He sounds even more confused, as if the notion of flying was impossible and not something that humans have been doing for over a century.  
  
"Exactly. Crazy, right?" I say, laughing. "You're going to fly with a hell of a hangover, love."  
  
I open the bedroom door with the magnetic card. I push the door in with my foot. My shoulders are tired, and Victor looks heavier and heavier. His gray hair is very messy. He won't fix them until he wakes up tomorrow.  
  
Since last year, we have been booking rooms with a double bed for us. I confess that, if I had known it was so good to sleep with Victor, I would have done it since the first time he asked, when he stayed at my house. Few feelings are as good as waking up and seeing Victor sleeping peacefully beside me. I would like to feel it until the end of my life, even though I am not worthy of such happiness. I still think it's too much for me.  
  
I help Victor to take a bath. He complains a lot when I turn on the shower, and unfortunately for him, I accidentally turn on the cold water instead of the hot water. If he was sober, he would jump in fright. Instead, he just complains. And how he complains. So. Much.  
  
When I finally manage to accommodate Victor under the blankets, he sleeps instantly. My tiredness seems to have increased, so I take a quick shower and go back to bed. I had left the lights off so Victor could sleep, so I tripped over a few things along the way to the bed.  
  
When I turn on my side and pick up my phone to set an alarm clock for 7 am, Victor wraps his arms around me, and his body heat in mine is incredibly comfortable.  
  
"Are you awake?" I ask, but I get no answer.  
  
I leave my phone on the nightstand and close my eyes, feeling the comfort of the pillow under my head and the warmth of Victor against my back. When I put my hand over his, I feel peace. And it doesn't take long before I fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When I wake up, I don't see any light coming in through the window. The sun has not risen yet.  
  
I turn off the 7 am alarm clock and sit on the edge of the bed, already looking for my glasses on the nightstand. When I look back, I see Victor sleeping so heavy that he snores. I think about waking him up, but he seems to be in the middle of a happy dream, and it would be a shame to interrupt him. I let him sleep a little longer and decide to pack some of my stuff for our trip back home.  
  
Victor is very organized. His stuff is perfectly in place when he is traveling, so that when we need to leave, he has little to put back in his luggage. I'm quite the opposite, and I have already admitted to myself that I will not be able to learn to be as organized as he is. It's like my suitcase immediately explodes and my things fly across the room as soon as I enter a hotel room. I spend a lot of time looking for my stuff. I thought my mess annoyed Victor, but he really doesn't care much about it. Or maybe that's what he wants me to think.  
  
He complains a little about my delay in getting ready to go out, but he never talked about the mess. Maybe it's a subtle way to complain about it, I think as I collect a single sock on the floor near the bathroom. Victor manages to be very critical when he wants to, but his criticisms leave me confused. The criticisms always come very clear and clean, but his voice tone is so sweet and light, like a macaron, that I always wonder if I should be offended or grateful for his words. Truth is, I never get offended.  
  
But honestly, I ask myself: why is a guy like him still with me?  
  
Our flight to St. Petersburg is at 9:30 am, so we must leave the hotel by 8 am. There is a little traffic to the airport, and we still have breakfast. When I finish packing my things, assuming it was an impossible task for me to keep everything properly organized in there until we leave the hotel, I see on the lock screen of my phone that it's 7:29 am.  
  
Time to wake up my fiance.  
  
I decide to turn on the TV on the news channel. Victor is usually a light sleeper for that type of noise. I sit on the edge of the bed and adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose with my index finger. In those seconds, Victor doesn't move an inch.  
  
"Victor," I call. I imagine that I will have to deal with his hangover, and the thought doesn't give me such pleasant feelings. I lie on my stomach on the bed and prop myself up on my elbows, bringing my face close to his. "Victor, wake up."  
  
"Mmhhmmm," he murmurs, waking up without opening his eyes. “Turn that crap off. I wanna sleep."  
  
"Do you want me to go back to St. Petersburg alone?" I say, forcing a sadness in my voice, just to make some drama. "Our flight is in two hours."  
  
He doesn't answer, but gets up and sits, still looking very sleepy. However, in addition to sleep, I can see in his eyes how much he regrets having drunk so much last night.  
  
"Do you have a painkiller?" He asks. "I don't think I'll be able to move without aspirin."  
  
“I'll get it for you. Stay there,” I get out of bed and try to remember where my painkillers are, which I always bring on every trip. As soon as I open my suitcase, I realize how long it will take to find and, more than that, to put everything back together.  
  
"Don't mess up your things, please," Victor asks, between laughs, already understanding the situation. I look at him still kneeling on the floor next to my suitcase, but very relieved. “Up there on the third shelf in the closet. You will find a box with some tablets. One of them is already empty, can you put it in the trash, please?"  
  
How the hell can he know EXACTLY where each of his things is?  
  
After medicating Victor and waiting for the 10 minutes it takes for him to finish packing and changing clothes, we went down to breakfast and then check out.  
  
***  
  
It's a cold day at PyeongChang. Colder than I expected it to be. Victor and I both forgot to pick up gloves, so we both have cold, almost blue hands. I almost cried when Victor played putting his cold hand on my neck.  
  
As I wait for my coffee to cool down a bit, with my hands wrapped around the liquid-heated porcelain cup, I pay attention to the golden ring on my right hand. It's been over a year since it ended up there. I didn't want to believe it at first, I'm not sure why, but in fact Victor and I have been engaged since then. We hardly detach from each other. We always get along when we are together, we hardly fight, and being with him is like being in heaven. All of this would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that I just don't function well without Victor. He always seems to be able to cope well with my absence, but as hard as I try, I can't be like that. I suffer a lot when he needs to spend a few days away.  
  
Yes, stop feeling sorry for me, I know this is not right. I shouldn't feel this way. But, the worst thing I feel about myself in this relationship is that, even though I know I need to be more like him, I need to know how to lead my life when we are away from each other, a part of me thinks he does it because he doesn't care enough about me.  
  
But that's not true, I think.  
  
I think I look too thoughtful, because Victor notices my gaze on the ring and says:  
  
"What is it? Is the ring uncomfortable there?"  
  
"No, it's not-", I start, already turning red, but he interrupts me.  
  
"Maybe putting it in the other hand will make you feel better," he says, blinking, and my cheeks boil amidst the cold weather of Russian proportions. I know I'm now in 50 shades of red, which makes me even more nervous.  
  
Since I don't answer, Victor continues, but now in a more serious tone, despite not losing the sweetness in his voice.  
  
“We need to talk about some stuff, when we get to St. Petersburg and rest. Okay, Yuri?"  
  
I blink at him, not realizing that I held my breath. I think I'm nervous. Is it what I think it is about?  
  
"... Is it about changing the ring from right t-to left?" I ask, pulling a shamefully thin voice to speak.  
  
He laughs, and rests his chin on his right hand, fingers on his cheek. I see the reflection of light in the ring that I put there. His eyes search mine intensely and, when they find me, I feel tenderness residing there.  
  
"It is," he says. Victor takes my hand, and his is very cold, despite having warmed his hands in the same way as me. “We are happy, Yuri. We are fine. And I really want to continue like this. ”  
  
I smile, because I know I don't need to say anything else. He understands that I want this too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so hyped about this waastwydtegdgetd

I couldn't stop thinking during the flight from PyeongChang to St. Petersburg, which lasted an incredible 22 hours and had a connection in Istanbul. I was thinking about my marriage to Victor and how it could be… bad?  
  
It's not that I don't love him. I love him so much, sometimes I even think I love Victor more than I love myself. I just think that by making him stay with me for the rest of his life and build a family with me (which is presumably why people get married), I will be dragging him down. This feels like a crime against him. I don't want to lock him up in a marriage where I can't live up to his expectations.  
  
Victor remained asleep for the entire flight. He took another heavier painkiller before getting on the plane, which reduced his headache and helped him sleep. Every time I noticed his head against my shoulder, and saw him sleeping peacefully, I felt like crying.  
  
I really want to marry him, I get nervous in a good way every time I think about it. However, bad nervousness also accompanies the thought. I am terrified of disappointing him. And that is something that I feel I am very close to doing.  
  
***  
  
Victor and I live in an apartment that is too large for both of us in St. Petersburg, Russia. After I lost that gold medal in Barcelona to Plisetsky by a few decimal places, we both went back to Hasetsu. After talking for a while about what he was going to do with his own career (and what I would do with mine, despite not considering retirement anymore), he invited me to move permanently to St. Petersburg. The answer was immediate and affirmative. Then, in less than a month, we had already moved.  
  
Since we had returned from Barcelona to Hasetsu, we knew we were engaged, even though we exchanged a few words on the subject. In the time we spent in Hasetsu, at my parents' house, we were just enjoying ourselves, experimenting things we've never done, totally free from any worries. So we didn't exchange a word about marriage.  
  
Arriving in St. Petersburg almost a year ago, other concerns took over our heads. We never stopped being affectionate to each other, he never stopped being playful to me, but since we were both going to pursue a career as competitors, he was more focused than ever.  
  
And so we are living. He makes me go to the supermarket with him on Saturdays, but I hate grocery shopping. I always ask him to help me with the lunch dishes, which he hates passionately, but he always does. We took turns bathing Makkachin, and I think he likes me better than Victor now. He loves to have coffee in the afternoon, so every day I make coffee, although I like tea more. At least once a week, Victor brings me another box of my favorite tea, or one he thinks I might like. We also started sleeping together after we moved in and, **_fuck_** , it's the best thing in the world.  
  
I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend. All of this is much more than I imagined it would be.  
  
***  
  
"Here, Yuri," Victor hands me a mug of tea that he just made for me. From the look on his face, he's terribly broken and tired from the trip, but he still managed to make me a cup of chamomile tea.  
  
When I pick up the mug, he strokes my hair briefly and sits on the floor in the living room, leaning against the couch where I'm sitting with my legs folded in lotus. I return the affection to him while I sip the tea, which is practically boiling hot.  
  
The weather is very cold. Today it snowed a little as soon as we arrived and, for the little Russian I can understand now, the weather forecast on TV promises more snow for tomorrow. Even with the heater on, I still shiver with cold. I don't understand how Victor manages to stay okay in this cold with just a pajama and piggy slippers. In addition, he managed to sit on the floor.  
  
"Can I have a sip?" He asks, looking back to me.  
  
My cup isn't even half empty yet, so I hand it to him. He notices my hands shaking with cold.  
  
"I thought you didn't like tea," I say, but he ignores it. He just puts my orange mug on the floor beside him and takes my hands in his, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and joining them in front of him. His hands are surprisingly warm. He laughs a little.  
  
"You look like a pebble of ice, Yuri," he says. "I'll warm you up a little."  
  
I smile, blushing. He drinks a good sip of tea and pretends to like it (as if I can't see the ugly face he does, even from the back). Victor turns to face me, and I look at him, with the brightness of the TV and the large glass windows in the living room overlooking the city framing his heavenly image.  
  
Before I can get ready, Victor kisses my cheek. His lips are comfortably warm, which is a relief in this cold weather. Suddenly, he walks away from me and takes off my glasses, to place them beside me on the couch.  
  
"Victor, I can't see you up close without them..."  
  
“You won't need it,” he replies, less than a second before kissing me. Well, he was right. In a kiss like that, my glasses would get in the way too much.  
  
Instinctively, my hands run upwards, where I can caress his soft hair. I become aware of the place where his hands touch me and a shiver runs through my body, like static energy that keeps me drawn to him. All the tension in my body dissolves, and I surrender to him completely.  
  
When he turns away from me and looks me in the eye, I know my cheeks are flushing. He smiles slightly and lifts my chin, stroking it with his thumb.  
  
"Yuri, I'm getting old," Victor says, not letting my eyes escape his. I feel trapped of my own free will. "I want to marry you. I want to build a family, even if it's just the two of us. I think it's time.”  
  
I nod with a smile, and in the blur that I see on his face, I see that he smiles back. He continues:  
  
“But I need you to be wanting the same thing as me, so that we can plan our future. You understand, don't you?”  
  
I nod again, still looking into his eyes, even though he's too close for me to focus on them.  
  
"Do you want us to start planning things now, Vic?" I ask. I'm starting to shake, but I try to contain myself. I don't want him to think that I'm afraid of the idea, when in fact I'm almost crying with happiness.  
  
"Immediately," he says, giving a slightly nervous laugh. The hand that was on my chin starts to touch my cheek. “Marry me, Yuri. I need it."  
  
My vision starts to blur, but now I know that it is not because of farsightedness. The tears run hot down my face. Victor knows that I am not sad. I'm just a little crybaby.  
  
"I need it too," I reply in a whisper. My answer scares me for being sincere. While he kisses me, a thought refuses to leave my mind.  
  
How can he think that marrying me is a good idea?  
  
But of course I'm not going to tell him that, not now. He doesn't deserve to have that moment destroyed by me. Precisely because I'm insecure, I don't think I'm going to be a good husband for Victor, and my insecurity fuels this vicious circle in a way that I don't know how to stop. My insecurity is being insecure.  
  
I try to ignore the thought as the next few minutes pass. Victor now brought me to the floor, I'm sittting on his warm lap, and he kisses me, warming me with the heat that radiates from his body. This manages to eliminate any insecurity that I have been feeling, at least until the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are about to get juicyyyy

When I wake up, Victor is still sleeping next to me, and that's rare.  
  
He doesn't usually wake up late. In fact, it's always the other way around: I am the lazy one who wakes up when he calls me for breakfast, after having prepared everything for us. He doesn't complain about doing everything by himself; I think he even likes that. I'm the biggest disaster when it comes to cooking, and I think the only time Victor got pissed at me was when he tried to teach me how to make crème brûlée. "First and last try, Yuri," he said. "You better leave the kitchen with me from now on."  
  
The only thing I can do is to put coffee powder and water in the coffee maker, wait for the coffee to be ready and take it to him.  
  
I see on my phone that it's 5:31 am, after picking up my glasses. Victor usually wakes up at 6:30 am every day. I managed to wake up even earlier than he does. I lie on the bed on my right side, and feel the warmth of his proximity on my back. I open Instagram and start scrolling down endlessly, watching videos of Korean girls eating whole cakes to pass the time.  
  
Last night was... hot. And I'm not talking about the heater that stays on all day. The morning is as cold as it always is in February, but remembering our last night makes my heart warm up a little. I leave my phone on the nightstand and roll to my left side to look at Victor. It's uncomfortable to lie on my side with glasses, but I want to see all the details of his face while he is like this, a true sleeping beauty.  
  
My eyes meet his, which are closed. He seems to be so far away in his deep sleep. His lips are slightly curved upwards at the corners, and it makes me wonder what he dreams of. Does he dream of normal things? Of random things, just like me? Has he ever dreamed of me?  
  
Right when we met, I dreamed of him almost every night. He didn't leave my house and my mind. I could hardly look at him the next morning, as I always remembered the dreams I had back then.  
  
Today it's like I live on a endless daydream.  
  
Makkachin jumps off the ground and lands on top of Victor, who wakes up scared, but laughs when he sees that it's just our dog.  
  
"Good morning to you too, Makkachin," he says, still lying down, hugging the dog and covering him with kisses.  
  
"I'm jealous," I say.  
  
"Are you jealous of our son, Yuri?", Victor replies, knowing that I am just joking around. "By the way, when did you decide to be an early bird?"  
  
"I didn't even get a good morning," I reply, pouting my lips like a tantrum child to sound more convincing. Victor laughs, and his laughter turns this gray early winter morning in Russia into a beautiful blue summer afternoon in Italy.  
  
"Come here," he asks, placing Makkachin on his legs, still covered by the weighted blanket. I approach him, and he welcomes me with his arms, pulling me close.  
  
"Gooooood mooooorning," he says, revealing in his voice how much sleepy he is. We are wrapped in the blanket, which by the way is my favorite blanket. When Victor needs to travel, I always sleep all wrapped in the weighted blanket. The weight it has simulates a hug perfectly, and that comforts me when I can't sleep at all.  
  
Victor kisses my cheek and I smile. His embrace is comfortable, but it isn't firm, yet. Victor needs a cup of coffee to start living in the morning. Without that, he literally can't functionate.  
  
"I think I'm going to the dentist today," he says, releasing me briefly to stretch his arms over his head. I look at him, waiting for him to complete his speech. “Since we arrived yesterday, I started to have a boring toothache…”  
  
“Do you want me to take you?” I ask. I'm very afraid to go to the dentist, but I don't know if Victor feels that way too.  
  
Victor puts a hand on my thigh, over the blanket.  
  
"If you have nothing better to do..." he lukewarmly replies.  
  
“Don't you even think about it!”, I say. Makkachin raises his head and looks at me. "I will take you there."  
  
"Yeah, on second thought, I might really need a ride home," he says thoughtfully. "Okay, Yuri."  
  
The hand that was on my thigh goes up above my head, and he pokes at a point just where I used to poke the gap that was beginning to appear in the middle of his hair. I blush as soon as he starts laughing.  
  
"Idiot, how can you be so cute?" I ask, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly. Victor responds with a laugh worthy of attracting birds, like Snow White, and approaches for a kiss.  
  
"NO KISSES BEFORE BRUSHING TEETH," I reply, suddenly walking away and laughing, seeing the expression of absurd sadness that Victor makes. It's funny because I know he isn't exactly upset. We made a deal not to kiss in the morning before brushing our teeth, and every now and then he tries to kiss me in bed just for fun.  
  
He kisses the top of my head and gets out of bed in the direction of the bathroom, and I remain lying on the bed, with Makkachin on my legs, watching my fiance brush his teeth with the bathroom door open.  
  
I love him so much. Marrying him is going to be one of the best things that could happen to me. It's like a miracle happening. I gave up on love to focus on my career, and when I came close to giving up on that too, Victor came around and made me fall in love with figure skating again, and even more with him.  
  
But Victor was already incredible in everything before we met. I need him a lot more than he needs me. I can't see how important I am to him, I can't see how I can make his life any better. Sometimes I feel like a weight, something he needs to be carrying on his back all the time.  
  
When we get married, inevitably, that feeling will be even stronger in me. The feeling that I'm slowing him down, pulling him down, preventing him from being as much as he can be.  
  
I love him so much, and I have no doubt that Victor also loves me to the last strand of hair, but is this the right decision for us? Am I ready for this?  
  
I close my eyes and try to hold my tears back. Victor has just turned off the sink tap and is coming back here. I don't want him to see me crying, not now, 6:30 in the morning.  
  
I hear him turn off the bathroom lamp, so I open my eyes. They are teary. I hope he doesn't notice.  
  
"Now it's your turn to brush your teeth, little piggy," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning on the bedroom TV. The TV volume is too loud, just like we left it last night, to drown out certain noises. He quickly lowers the volume on the TV. "Go fast. I wanna kiss you. ”  
  
***  
  
I'm not in the dentist's chair, but my nervousness is like I'm there, not Victor. It's surprising to me how calm he is about these things: dentist, blood tests, vaccines...  
  
However, there is one thing that Victor absolutely fears. He has a lot of ingrown nails, and I often fix it for him. And I swear to God, how _dramatic_ he is about that.  
  
"Are you sure that a podiatrist doesn't do this better than me, Victor?", I asked, on one occasion, when he wouldn't even let me touch his foot anymore, since he started to cry.  
  
"Yes, Yuri," he replied. “You do it just right. Not as much as a podiatrist, but… ”  
  
“So why don't you go there, love?”, I said, but as I said those words, I realized what the real problem was.  
  
"Because I cry," he admitted, and I had a little laugh, since he confirmed what I thought. “I'm afraid, so I cry. And I'm ashamed to cry in front of them. Imagine, Victor Nikiforov crying over an ingrown nail!”  
  
Then he started to cry even more, and I started to laugh even more, but then I cried too, because he was still in pain and I needed to fix that nail.  
  
But quite often, compared to him, I am a child. Even when it's a simple trip to visit my parents, I always think that I can't go on my own, and I make him go with me. He doesn't complain about accompanying me at all, and that's what makes me nervous. If he even complained, I would know how he feels about it.  
  
Besides, I always think I'm getting in the way, even if he doesn't show it. Despite the awful feeling, I can't stop acting like that.  
  
A seemingly peaceful Victor emerges from the door that opens. He says goodbye to his dentist and the receptionist in Russian. Then he comes up to me and says "let's go", offering me his arm.  
  
"What's up with your tooth?” I ask, already outside, as we walk to the parking lot.  
  
"I'm going to need a root canal treatment as soon as possible," he replies. "If I don't, I could lose my tooth and need an implant."  
  
"Oh." Victor is indeed getting old.  
  
“It's one of the molar teeth, so even if I lose it, it won't show up when I smile. Even so, until next week I will take anti-inflammatory drugs and then I will start treatment. It takes three weeks. And it looks like it's going to be a little boring. ”  
  
I look at him, worried.  
  
"Relax, babe. I'll take care of you,” I reply, opening a smile to show that I'm not that worried (even though I am).  
  
"I'm sure you will take good care of me," he kisses the top of my head. “Buy a lot of ice cream. Neapolitan, the one you know I like.”  
  
We got into our car in silence. I sit in the driver's seat and fasten my seat belt before I even start the car. I put the key in the contact and Victor turns on the radio. More Russian I still don't understand. He changes stations until he finds one that is playing music.  
  
"What do you want for dinner today, my love?", Victor asks, putting a hand on my thigh and stroking it over my pants. He smiles. Fuck. I feel like putting his hand inside my pants right now.  
  
"I-I want fettuccine Alfredo," I reply, exhaling deeply after saying those words. Victor's hand starts to slide slowly over my thigh, making me shiver. His smile robs me entirely.  
  
His face approaches mine. I can feel his hot breath on my skin. The car seems to have heated up so much...  
  
"Alright. And the dessert will be you, agreed?” He says in his beautiful low voice, finishing with a wink. I think I'm getting hard.  
  
If he hadn't left soon after, I would have kissed Victor. I'm just a little slow in my reactions.  
  
"O-Okay," I reply, and Victor murmurs something in approval. I look at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I'm blushing violently. I smile at the windshield and start the car.  
  
***  
  
Victor said he would go to the supermarket to buy some things that were missing for dinner. He asked if I wanted to go with him, and I said no, even though I knew he would insist that I go. But, to my surprise, he didn't insist and left alone.  
  
I'm watching a film with Russian dubbing. I was unable to switch the dubbing language to English, where I could understand at least half of what was happening. Luckily for me, there were English subtitles, and now I'm practicing my English and Russian at the same time.  
  
I've never seen this movie in my life. The title was translated into Russian, and I'm too lazy to see what it means in Google Translate. As I understand it, because I started to see a lot before it started, it is about a bee that apparently is in love with a… human ?, that leads the bees to give up on making honey because he thought they were being exploited by humans, and now the world is dying.  
  
"Yuuuuuri!", I hear Victor's voice as soon as he opens the door. He carries a grocery bag and a square package in his hands.  
  
I smile, looking at him from far away on the couch. He leaves the things he brought on a small table that we put by the door while he takes off his gloves, coat and scarf. As he comes across the room to get to the kitchen, he takes off his shoes and leaves them spread out, walking in socks on the carpeted floor. Makkachin sniffs his shoes and takes one of them to the bedroom.  
  
As Victor passes me, he hands me the square package that was in his hands. "I bought it for you," he says, walking away before I can see what it is. Wrapped in transparent plastic, a notebook with golden spiral and hard cover. On the front is written, in cursive letters and in glitter, “Wedding Planner”. My jaw drops, but I start laughing.  
  
Victor bought me a wedding planner?  
  
"Victor, you're kidding me, aren't you?", I say, invading your kitchen. He's wearing an apron, and he looks at me like he doesn't understand me.  
  
“We're going to get married, aren't we?”, He points to the notebook in my hands with the knife he just picked up from the counter. "I thought you were aware."  
  
"That's not it, silly," I say, adjusting my glasses on the bridge of my nose. I approach him. "Victor, are you really going to let the most messy person in that relationship plan our wedding?"  
  
He laughs so loud it makes me laugh along with him.  
  
“You have this wedding planner to help you. And you always have me," says Victor, in a carefree tone. “I want our wedding party just as you like, my love. You can handle it. I trust you, okay? ”  
  
"Okay," I reply, not feeling very confident in my own answer.  
  
Victor gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and steps away to get an onion. I sigh and leave the kitchen, returning to the sofa and the bee movie, but I don't pay any attention to it anymore.  
  
I look at the notebook I hold. Things just got completely serious. The countdown has started.


	5. Chapter 5

Days passed. After all these days, the most I did with the wedding planner was to flip through it. I confess, it was an interesting experience. At first, I went through the pages with great curiosity, and I learned a lot that was necessary for a wedding, which I had no idea before. Follow a meal plan for an entire year before the wedding to be in the best shape on the wedding day? Victor doesn't need that!  
  
The second time I opened the notebook, I concentrated on the first pages, on the things that should be done before the wedding is 1 year away.  
  
“Set the wedding date”, I read. It was obvious, so I chuckle. There must be a date, isn't there? Everything from now on would gravitate towards that big day, so it was obvious to start from there.  
  
However, there were many other things to be done. Start thinking about decoration, guests, places to rent, whether we would like a church ceremony or not…  
  
It filled me with anxiety. I just closed the notebook without being able to force myself to think about those things, and decided that it was enough for that day.  
  
Then, opening the notebook to plan things became more and more difficult. It would take me only a glance at that white cover with golden letters, and I'd feel a terrible and paralyzing anxiety, as if the damn notebook stared back at me with a look that knew all my sins.  
  
I left the notebook on a shelf in the living room bookcase, at a height good enough for Victor to look at, but go unnoticed by me. For days, the notebook was left untouched, and I couldn't think of the wedding. I wish there was no need for a ceremony, that we could exchange our wedding rings, go to the honeymoon and start living a normal couple life, as we practically already do.  
  
Maybe I should tell Victor this. That I don't want a giant party. That I just want... him.  
  
But he wants this party so badly. He gave me a wedding planner, said he wanted our party my way. But my party style is just not having it. How do I tell him that without being hurt?  
  
More days passed, and I couldn't find the courage to speak to him about our wedding date. He must be waiting for me to call him to talk about it, after all, I'm the one organizing it. If he just asked, it would be easier...  
  
Victor brought pizza for our dinner. These pizza days are not common - Victor often prefers a lighter dinner, and encourages me to follow a healthier diet. He doesn't know that sometimes I hid myself and eat donuts, while he takes a shower before going to bed, and he would be very upset if he knew that.  
  
"Victor," I say. I'm thinking of talking to him about the wedding date, but that conversation makes me so nervous that I end up just whispering his name, instead of speaking it out loud. Still, Victor notices and looks at me.  
  
"Yuri," he replies. My hands start to shake, and suddenly I can no longer look at him. I don't know if I can talk to him about it.  
  
The silence that follows after he says my name, waiting for me to proceed, ready to hear me, is palpable. Does he know what I want to talk about? I mean, it's nothing so serious, it's just a conversation about our marriage, why am I so nervous? If he knows I'm nervous, is he thinking I'm an idiot for being nervous about it?  
  
I'm still looking down, unable to lift my head and look him in the eye. The ring on my right hand, here in the shade under the table, doesn't shine, but it stands out on my pale hand. I hold my hands tightly, trying to focus on the pressure I put on them, hoping it will bring me back to reality.  
  
I hear a brief scraping of a chair on the floor. Victor must have been tired of waiting. But, before I can lift my head and see his empty chair, I feel his arm wrap around my shoulders.  
  
"What happened, katsudon?", Victor asks, visibly concerned. “You're nervous. Did something bad happen?"  
  
"N-No," I reply. I take a deep breath and shake my head quickly, as if shaking it like that is going to ward off bad thoughts. Victor strokes my shoulder tenderly, and I feel like I'm going to melt at his touch, despite being terribly nervous.  
  
I know it's a simple conversation about a date, but why am I so afraid of something going wrong?  
  
Is it because I'm afraid of accidentally implying that I don't know if I want to get married?  
  
I sigh once more.  
  
“I don't know why I got this way. I just wanted to talk a-about our wedding date. ”  
  
"Ah," he replies in a surprisingly relieved tone. He kneels on the floor to stay my height without having to leave my side. "I understand how anxious this may have made you, Yuri."  
  
"Do you understand?" I ask, looking at him in surprise. How can he understand me, like it's the easiest thing in the world? Sure he isn't anxious about this conversation, so how does he understand me?  
  
"Sure, silly," he laughs. “The wedding date is a big decision. Depending on the season, the decoration, the venue where the ceremony will be held, the honeymoon, all of that can change. It is a very important decision. I’m glad you’ve already started thinking about it. ”  
  
I had no idea that the season would have to be taken into account.  
  
"So, what have you been thinking?" He asks, like he expected me to say what I had already thought. I hadn't really thought of anything yet, but I didn't want to tell him that. The only thing I had been thinking about all along was how insufficient I was for him.  
  
Without meaning to, I start to cry. And I don't cry a little. I can't lie to Victor, I can't even make up a little lie to cover up my inability to decide a date, or at least a season of the year to get married. I can't hide from him how much I feel like nothing.  
  
"I couldn't think of anything," I admit. I can't look at him, but I know he's looking at me with a sad glance. Victor takes my glasses off my face and puts them on the table. All he can hear then is my sobs. Victor doesn't say anything, but he is still there, hugging me. I know his knees are hurting and will bruise after, because he's been kneeling beside me all this time and won't leave.  
  
“Why did you ask me to organize it all? I just... I don't know, Victor! I am not good enough for that. I won't make it. You can't let our marriage be a disaster because of me. ”  
  
"I know you better than anyone else, Yuri," he replies. Although he sounds calm, I feel a hint of sadness in his voice. “I know you can do this. I'm not marrying you without a reason, after all. You are able to do anything, as long as you dedicate yourself. ”  
  
His words, instead of comforting me, feel like a stab in the back.  
  
"How am I going to dedicate myself?" I look at him. His blue eyes widen at my question. “I don't even understand why you are with me, Victor! I try to understand why, but I can't. Do you really think I do you well? Do you consider me worthy to marry you? I'm so... plain, boring, if I were a spice, I would be flour. I don't make any difference. ”  
  
Seconds of silence drag on, and I regret having said those words. I know I didn't say anything that offended Victor, just bad things about myself, but the feeling I have, judging by the expression on his face, is that I offended him deeply.  
  
“Yuri, do you… do you think about these things about yourself?” He asks, but it's a rhetorical question. Now he knows that I do. That's what I think of myself.  
  
“So that means that I'm not able to show you how much I love you? How important are you to me?” He continues. His voice tone, his words, demonstrate how much mine hurt him. "Or are you the one who can't see what's right under your nose?"  
  
I have no answer. Any answer from me is not able to justify what I said.  
  
“HOW MANY times do I need to say that you are the best thing that has happened in my life? That living with you is a dream that comes true every day? That I would give my life for you? Yuri, how can you not understand that? ”  
  
I cry again. He, despite being visibly upset with me, still stands beside me, supporting me. If he leaves, I fall apart. I need him. If I were not a major human disaster, all of this would not be happening now.  
  
“I understand, but… I don't know. I never doubted your love, but there are parts of me that say inside that I am not enough for you. I try to ignore it, but it is sometimes so difficult. I end up acting like I believe those bad thoughts. ”  
  
“Thoughts are just thoughts, Yuri. That's what they are. Thoughts are not real. Attitudes are,” Victor says. Now his words are like a father's. He's definitely concerned about me. “Can you believe my actions? I made you responsible for our wedding party because I fully believe that you are capable of doing this. Do you understand what that means? ”  
  
I nod, and he hugs me more closely. I can smell him, and that invites me to bury my face where his shoulder meets his neck. My lips touch the soft skin of the area, and one of his hands touches my hair. When he speaks, I feel that area vibrate, his voice resounding to the depths of my being.  
  
"I'm going to follow you more closely with this, okay?", Victor says. “I will not leave you alone. You will not go through all that anxiety alone. ”  
  
"I don't know how to thank you," I say. My tears wet his skin, and my eyes still cry.  
  
"You don't have to, my love," Victor replies. His embrace is still tight, and he smells like cocoa and cardamom. I never met anyone with that same smell, so it became his trademark for me. IS the smell that I smell even when he is away, and gives me the feeling of home. Reassures me and keeps me from bad thoughts. “I want to see you grow. I want to be the person who will be around, watching you overcome all your insecurities. And that, for me, is priceless. ”  
  
"And if I can overcome them all, what will you have left to see in me?"  
  
"You living your life the way you deserve it," he replies, and the sincerity is firm in his voice. "Without fear of being happy. Without fear of making mistakes. Completely free.”  
  
I am silent after his words, because I don't know how to respond. Does Victor really see potential in me, so I can live like this? I don't know a life that is not marked by fear of failure and insecurity. If Victor sees that I can be like that, why don't I believe him? Why do I only listen to my self-deprecating thoughts?  
  
"Oh, and we're going to have a lot of sex in the bathroom, too," he adds, laughing.  
  
Ah, yes. I smile, my mouth touching his soft warm skin. I already can do that very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> victor is so caring i'd die for him


	6. Chapter 6

After the dinner disaster, where I cried like a baby in Victor's arms, we finally managed to decide a season for the wedding. I promised him that I would dedicate myself to overcome my insecurities and work on my self-esteem, but I admit that it's difficult. So, whenever I want to think about something about marriage, I ask Victor to help me make decisions and define the next steps to be taken.  
  
We're getting married in the spring. Not the one that will start in a few days, but the next one. It is enough time for us to plan everything. In addition, we decided to get married in Hasetsu, Japan. During spring, the cherry blossoms bloom and the landscape is just magnificent. An outdoor wedding at this time of year would almost feel like a fairy tale.  
  
I've been wondering if I'm meeting Victor's expectations. I act differently, but it's not like I have a different motivation for it. Often, I start by forcing myself to do something about the wedding preparations, and when I realize it, I'm focused on the task and even quite excited about the ideas that Victor and I have.  
  
He asked me to trust his actions. The way he acts shows that he is very proud of me and happy with my dedication. But, judging by my own recent experience of doing things contrary to the way I'm feeling, perhaps he is also doing the opposite of what he feels.  
  
But I have no reason to believe my hypothesis. Victor never stopped being honest with me, even when it hurt me in some way. He's honest, but he knows how to criticize me. He knows exactly where and how far he must go, so I can improve on my weakest points. He never said anything about my weaknesses wihtout making a point, with the sole purpose of verbalizing such things and leaving me crying alone. On the contrary, his manner of speaking is so kind that I sometimes forget that he is upset with me.  
  
The most anger that I managed to see him show, until today, was at that dinner. He wasn't angry because I said bad things about him, but because I was talking shit about me. He seemed deeply offended to hear me speak so badly of myself, firing phrases like "I'm worthless", without even considering the possibility that I might see myself in another way. Now, looking back, I would feel that way too if I ever heard Victor speak so badly of himself.  
  
However, as the weeks went by, the vacations ended and our trainings started again. Victor resumed training again as an athlete, and his attention, which was once only mine, would now be divided for both of us. Not that I wanted to take Victor out of figure skating. But I was so used to having him full time for me that it was weird to spend the whole afternoon training without his gaze upon me.  
  
In the first few days, this discouraged me a lot. I soon realized the feeling of apathy that was taking over me and, at first, I didn't let myself be carried away. But there were too many things in my head, and I was nevertheless worried and overwhelmed by anxiety. As Victor continued to wake up naturally at 6:30 am to prepare breakfast, it was increasingly difficult for me to get out of bed and face my responsibilities almost entirely on my own. My body and mind begged for my fiance's presence almost all the time. Getting home after an afternoon without him and lying next to him in bed was my moment of relief. I don't know if he was noticing, but at first I tried hard to hide my feelings. I thought I would soon get used to it and told myself to stop being such a crybaby.  
  
Weeks passed like that and, unfortunately, I didn't get used to this new routine. With each passing day I felt worse, and I soon realized that Victor would notice my discouragement, if he wasn't already. It was getting harder and harder to hide, and it quickly got to the point where I couldn't do it anymore.  
  
"I'm not going to practice today," I say over breakfast, poking a piece of papaya from my fruit salad with a fork. Victor looks at me, and I realize that I need to make up an excuse. "I'm not feeling well today."  
  
He sighs, but says he understands. I smile back and thank him, promising that tomorrow I'll be better, but my promise is a bad check. Besides, I feel awful about lying to Victor. Or omitting things. I don't know.  
  
"Do you want me to stay here with you in the morning ?," Victor asks before taking a sip of his coffee. I hold the edge of the chair seat, my hands between my thighs. I look down briefly before answering.  
  
"You don't have to, I think," I say, even though I wanted his company all day. He looks at me, but he doesn't seem to be suspecting anything. It makes me feel even worse, because if he at least showed that he knew I was hiding something, I wouldn't feel that immense guilt that comes with lying to my soon-to-be husband.  
  
He really believes in me. What the hell. He really doesn't deserve someone so dishonest and untruthful.  
  
“Maybe you can take this time off from me and dedicate yourself more to your training… I think,” I continue, and he responds with a chuckle.  
  
"Don't get so used to taking a break," Victor replies. His coffee is over. A light that comes in through the kitchen window illuminates your face directly, making your eyes flash towards me. Why does his voice tone sounds like he knows that I'm hiding something? Or is this just my paranoia? "We have a gold to dispute this year, Yuri, and I want a worthy opponent."  
  
I think about saying that he has the other Yuri, but he is faster than me.  
  
"And don't even think about talking about Plisetski," he adds, full of seriousness, pressing a napkin against his lips. "If I saw in him the potential that I see in you, I wouldn't be _your_ coach."  
  
He stuns me with his words and gets up, leaving the dining room before I can say anything.  
  
"Today the dishes are yours, my love," he says, returning to the table to kiss my forehead before leaving. "If you need anything, call me and I'll be here in a minute."  
  
I smile, and that's all I can do. His words still resonate in a way that I didn't know was possible, although he has said similar things before. Maybe now they hit me differently because I am filled with feelings of guilt. As if I didn't want to try and be at least a third of what Victor expects of me.  
  
But there was something about his tone that sounded almost... impatient. Almost like he knew how I was feeling now. "No," I think, shaking my head. I hear the front door open and then close, I hear the car being opened, closed and started, I hear the sound of it moving away down the street.  
  
As soon as I find myself alone, I cry.  
  
***  
  
I spent the whole morning trying to avoid the heavy and suffocating feeling of guilt. I really wanted to be honest with Victor and he certainly deserves my honesty. But I can't open up easily like that, not even with him, let alone when the things I have to say are likely to upset him. I know that he will understand me and help me solve everything, but he is my fiance. Victor has feelings for me, of course he will be upset to see me like this, again.  
  
Maybe, if I break, I will dump everything I feel, even if the words startle him and make me sorry for a while. In the way I am now, it doesn't take much to break me. If he comes home and acts like he believes in me... that's enough.  
  
And if I do that, if I'm honest with Victor, and he still chooses to stand by me... Do I really deserve him? I mean, I would totally do the same thing for Victor, but it’s not like I’m so equivalent to him. Anyone else would easily enter my place, so it's not like he's forced to stay.  
  
Perhaps it's the fear of rejection that's preventing me from doing this. Deep down, I'm still afraid to wake up one day and hear him say he doesn't love me anymore and leave. I'm afraid that my words will have this effect on him. To make him think that he doesn't have to stay here and get on with his life, be happy somewhere else. And I will be alone, without the strength to recover, because Victor is practically all I have. Even my entire career was built around him. If he rejects me, what am I going to do from then on?  
  
Makkachin must have felt that something was wrong with me, and he didn't leave my side all day. I ordered delivery for lunch and stayed in the living room, eating on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, even though the weather was not as cold as usual. Makkachin insisted on climbing on the sofa and lay with his head on my lap, looking up. Every time I looked at him, I had the impression that he wanted to say something to me, and my eyes were watering suddenly.  
  
The front door opens and I get scared because I wasn't expecting it. It's 2 pm and Victor should arrive at 6, but for some reason, he decided to come home early. I swallow, because that is good and bad. Good because he's here, and bad for the same reason. One misstep and I fall apart.  
  
“Hi, my love!”, His voice has a good-natured tone that contrasts with my sadness. I give the best welcoming smile I can and wait for him to kiss me.  
  
He kisses me differently this time. It's almost like he doesn't want to hurt me by the touch. Does he feel that something is wrong? I return the kiss more intensely, trying to give the impression that I'm not that fragile. This seems to make him give in to the temptation to hold it back and he kisses me more surely, as he usually does. As we part our lips, I somehow smile genuinely.  
  
"Hey, I'm going to take a quick shower and come back here," he says, scratching a spot on his neck, which turns red at the first scratch. His skin is incredibly sensitive to the pressure. Holding your wrists very firmly is enough to make his skin swell in welts.  
  
"Okay," I mumble. His eyes haven't changed, there's nothing about him that seems to suspect me. If he seemed to suspect, it would be much easier to give up on my everything-is-okay-don't-worry cover. But he apparently isn't expecting to hear all the sentimental mess I have in store.  
  
I wait while he takes a shower and gets ready to go back to the living room. He comes back wearing a simple shirt and pants. His hair is still a little wet, without the volume he usually has. Victor sits next to me on the couch and wraps me around one of his arms. Makkachin does not leave my lap at all.  
  
"I had to take a cooler shower," he says casually, which surprises me.  
  
"Victor, it's 8 degrees outside," I reply, but he giggles in response.  
  
"I am Russian. This is hot weather,” Victor says like it's nothing, and then lets go of my embrace to pet Makkachin. "Weird, he didn't even get off your lap when I arrived."  
  
"He spent all day like that," I say. Victor looks at me and raises an eyebrow, but then smiles and turns his gaze to the television, which is tuned to a TV show called "The Good Place".  
  
After a while in silence, where we both pretended to be watching the TV, holding hands and him stroking my hand with his thumb, Victor looks at me. When I look at him, his face shows nothing, just nothing, like I'm taking an ID photo of him. His eyes, however, shone with all possible emotions.  
  
"Yuri Katsuki...," he says, and I wasn't prepared for the low tone his voice takes in the sentence. "You're okay, aren't you?"  
  
He asks, already knowing the answer. I know he does. The tone of voice, the moment of the question. He knows. This was what I needed to give up on hiding.  
And honestly, pretending to be fine was already making me exhausted.  
  
"No," I say, and this is the first time in two years that I have admitted this to him at first, without trying to lie before. Honesty embraces me from the inside and begins to squeeze me in the chest, forcing all my feelings to spill out of me by the pressure it makes.  
  
"I'm listening," says Victor. His voice is solid, but still sweet, like rock candy. There is no escape from where we are. Either I talk or I talk, there's no choice. The end of this conversation depends on how he will react, and there is not much I can do about it.  
  
I talk. I'm not even surprised by my courageous attitude, because the emotions that flood me as I spill are much stronger, they obscure my vision and drown out all sounds, except that of my own voice and the thoughts that rush through, trying to get ahead of my words.  
  
I talk about everything he already knew. I feel small, insufficient, incapable. Even though he loves me, I sometimes wonder if I'm worthy of all that love. I say that I'm afraid of hurting him with my inner mess, and that he shouldn't drag himself into it any more.  
  
I close my eyes and feel that Victor is taking my glasses off my face. "I'm a mess, Victor," I say. I feel his delicate hands wipe away the tears that run down my cheeks. I open my eyes, staring at my pale hands resting on my lap.  
  
"You are not a mess," he replies. “You're messy just now, but... it happens to the best people. And it passes."  
  
"If I were one of the best people, I wouldn't be doing it," I say. Victor doesn't say anything, so I continue. "I feel like I'm not worth the effort you make to be with me."  
  
"Never repeat that again, Yuri," Victor replies in a harsh tone. Shit. I realize how wrong it was to say those words, although I feel they are right. But there is nothing I can do to remove what I said. Victor is already hurt.  
  
"The way you say it sounds like I'm doing you a favor," Victor continues. He holds my chin with one hand and makes me look into his eyes, even though he knows I'm not seeing them so clearly. However, even at this close range, the spark in his eyes is clear. “I'm here with you because I want to. Because I love you. Nothing more than that."  
  
I look at him, shocked. Since when can he say such harsh things, while being a true declaration of love?  
  
“I fell in love with you, with who you are, and I know that you can still be better, Yuri. Don't tell me that I am wrong, because to admit that is just to say that you are a bad person. It's not fair for you to talk like that about yourself, to think such things about yourself. I don't want to see you ruining yourself. ”  
  
"Maybe I'm like this, really bad," I say. He lets go of my chin, and I drop it, with no strength to lift myself up. I can't look at Victor anymore. I'm paying the price for my honesty.  
  
How selfish I am! I'm hurting the love of my life so I don't have to keep these bad feelings to myself. I'm hurting Victor deeply, and I feel it with every word that leaves my mouth. I will end up alone because I'm selfish and I want to vent, when in fact it was enough to listen to what he said and accept, or at least pretend, that I am capable of everything that he thinks I am. But I am stubborn, arrogant and selfish, I don't accept anyone helping me, I don't listen to anyone's opinions about me, even if they are totally more optimistic than mine.  
  
How did Victor fall in love with such a self-destructive person?  
  
“Perhaps you are wrong. Marrying me is a mistake you are making.” I try to stop talking, but I lose control. It's too late. “I love you, Victor, but I can't let our relationship go on like this. I can't even solve my own problems on my own, so I don't know if I'm ready for the responsibility of a marriage. I care too much about you. I would die if you lived unhappy because of me. ”  
  
Victor is silent. I hear nothing, not even the sound of the TV. Still looking down, I see when Victor takes my hands in his and places them on his cheeks. I feel how wet they are, and I feel the tears that keep coming down and wetting my hands. My heart sinks, and I can't keep my hands there anymore. I shouldn't have said anything. I bet this is being as difficult for him as it is being for me.  
  
“You ask me for some things that I know you are not wrong to ask. I admit, I have been very hard on myself. But I just keep letting you down, because I can't help being that way, no matter how hard I try. I feel like you're just wasting your time on me. It hurts a lot to see you endeavoring to see me happy, but I don't live up to any of your expectations, and it… kills me inside. ”  
  
A terrible silence ensues. I'm panting because I'm crying and saying everything too fast, as if I want to get the words out without tasting them on my mouth. Speaking quickly to get it over quickly, I guess. Everything about here and now is being unbearable for me. Even Victor, who is next to me, looks cold and distant.  
  
"This is... This is a lot to think about, Yuri," says Victor. His voice sounds like he's feeling sorry for me. I let the silence answer for me.  
  
“Do you want time to think about these things?”, Victor continues. Emotion is ingrained in his voice. I have rarely seen him like this. I don't know how to act.  
  
This was not quite the solution I expected. I thought he would immediately break up with me, but it looks like he is willing to save everything. Can he still forgive me after everything I've said?  
  
I sob. Victor immediately welcomes me into his arms, not leaving me alone. My whole body trembles immersed in the emotion, anxiety and comfort of my fiance's embrace. It's such a contradictory scenario. While my insides chastise, burn, bleed and hurt, Victor embraces me, as if saying goodbye to someone for the last time, or meeting someone after a long time. I'm overwhelmed with sensations.  
  
"I need some time alone," I whisper, still in his embrace. I don't know if he can hear me, but I hope he doesn't. I'm saying this more to me than to him. "I'm sorry. I'm too messed up to make up my mind about certain things.”  
  
Victor strokes my back with both hands, his chin resting on the top of my head. Makkachin got off my lap, but I feel that he's lying on the couch, very close to us.  
  
"So, Yuri," Victor suddenly lets go of me and gets up from the couch, getting far enough away that I can look at his face clearly. His beautiful blue eyes stare at me. Although he is hurt, I know that he cannot show any hardness to me. But he's hurt in a way that I have never seen before. “Don't come after me unless you've made your decision. Because I already took mine. ”  
  
 _Shit_ , why did I open my mouth to say that I wanted time alone? Why did you do that, Yuri? Now Victor opens the door and leaves, everything seems to be happening in slow motion and too fast at the same time, and I'm just… paralyzed.  
  
Why don't I scream asking him to stay?  
  
Why don't I get off the couch and run after him?  
  
Why don't I cry on despair?  
  
Why do I just sit and watch my world fall apart?  
  
My sobs breaks out in the silence that remains after the door closes. Victor doesn't come back to console me. And with every minute that passes, while I cry, I become even more convinced that he won't come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooo this is a sea of heavy emotions!!


End file.
